Supremacy and Subordination
by CaesarCaesar
Summary: Softly, he muttered into her mouth, "We'll see about that, Granger." He pulled back and grinned savagely. She squeaked as he lent back in. Her hands balled up into fists and began pounding on his chest in a pitiful attempt to fight back.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: One day, my bestfriend said she wanted to write a story with me. We decided to try our hand at a multi chap Dramione. This is the result. The characters aren't ours, but we had lots of fun playing with them. Depending on the responses we get, will depend on if/when we post more and write more. We have quite a few chapters pre prepared :) **

**Please review.**

**Chapter One **

It was near the beginning of their sixth year and the evening after Slytherin's defeat to Gryffindor. The weather was growing colder, the nights becoming longer. The students were discussing yesterday's match. Girls, however, were far more interested in a new relationship that had sprung from nowhere. The couple in question sat on the soft couch in front of the substantial fireplace, which cast its warmth onto the room and those within it. The room was quiet, most students having retired already to their beds but some stragglers remained. There was still a low, pleasant hum of voices. Hermione and Harry sat, embarrassed by the show Ron and Lavender insisted on putting on in their new found romance.

It wasn't just the constant displays of affection but rather the baby name that had been attached to Ron - only a day into their relationship - that Hermione and Harry both squirmed at. Although both reacted for different reasons. Harry squirmed out of embarrassment for "Won-Won" and the blow this term of endearment must be to his masculinity. Hermione squirmed out of a mixture of jealousy and anger towards Ron. Their relationship was already ruined by Ron's discovery of Hermione's kiss with Viktor Krum. It was further torn by his accusation that she had no faith in him, shortly after his amazing display as keeper. She knew that Ron was with Lavender to spite her and it was working. She was annoyed, jealous and also hurt; feelings which were also directed at Harry. She couldn't deny she was upset at how well Harry excelled in Potions thanks to the notes of the Half-Blood Prince. No one could blame her. It wasn't as if Harry had done it on pure skill alone. She'd always worked hard due to the disadvantage of having muggle parents. Now Harry had cheated his way to the top of the class and into becoming one of Slughorn's favourites. Although she herself was a favourite of Slughorn's, it was a matter of pride.

Hermione was curious about the book. She disliked that she hadn't been permitted to explore its pages and to discover its secrets. She wondered if she could get a chance to read it properly, having only been allowed a glance or to listen to titbits Harry read out. Then maybe she could understand his cheating. She cleared her throat and leaned over slightly to Harry,

"Harry?" He looked up from his book, cheeks still burning red from what he had been forced to endure - yet another snogging session courtesy of Ron and Lavender. "can I have another look at that book, please?"  
>"Which book, Hermione?" he said, although they both knew which book she meant.<br>"You know the one I mean," she replied, slight irritation was evident in her voice, "I don't trust this Half-Blood Prince, whoever he is, and I don't like how secretive you're being. You know you can trust me."  
>"There's no reason to not trust him, Hermione." Harry answered, rather curtly. Hermione raised an eyebrow, Harry lowered his eyes back to the book in question. Hermione sighed in frustration. She could see she was getting nothing out of him. Not that that made a change. She hadn't really expected to get any more out of him now than she had in the past.<br>"You're being ridiculous about this, Harry," Hermione wouldn't let it drop. She wanted to read that book. She felt jealous of it, angry about its contents. She only wanted to read it once. She wasn't going to use to to cheat as Harry was doing. "Can I please just look at it?"

"Can you please drop the subject of that ruddy book, Hermione?" Ron spat. Hermione spun around to look at him. Harry's head shot up from the infamous book. "I'm sick of hearing about it." Lavender giggled, "Just because Harry is getting better grades than you, is no reason for you to go on and on about it. Just drop it, would you?". Ron turned to Harry, shaking his head as he normally did when he thought Hermione was being a pain. He was attempting to usher Harry onto his side of the dispute. Harry, feeling even more awkward, avoided responding or even making eye contact with either of them. Hermione kept her eyes on Ron.  
>"Well I'm sorry for being suspicious," she hissed, trying to keep Lavender (who was currently playfully fiddling with the collar of Ron's shirt) from hearing anything further, "We don't even know who he was! I don't doubt he was brilliant but you don't even know what any of those spells he's created can do. Not to mention you're cheating Harry. You've never been good at potions. It's not like people haven't noticed how fast you've improved."<p>

"He was a student Hermione, like you and I and he's helping me out in potions!" Harry huffed, stung by her insinuation that he was lousy at Potions. As far as he was concerned it wasn't cheating, it was simply following tips and hints. Not always following the textbook could be beneficial as proved by his results.  
>"Harry! He is not helping you! You say it like he's some sort of friend! You act as though this book is some sort of bible! You remember what happened with Riddle's diary. What's to say this book might not turn out equally as dangerous? You're being foolish! I just want to have a look at it!"<p>

"Haven't you got enough books, Hermione?" Lavender tittered. Hermione turned her attention to the girl sprawled on Ron's knee.

"I don't know, Lavender. Maybe if you tried reading one you'd actually show some semblance of intellect." Hermione bit back.

There wasn't even a second of silence before Ron had fired up, fuming that his girlfriend had been insulted. Although he didn't know what semblance meant, he knew Hermione had made a derogatory comment towards her and nothing infuriated him more.

"Don't you ever talk to her like that again!" Ron's voice was loud, but he was sure not to shout too much, for fear they would be ushered to bed by the head boy, Richard, who was dozing on an arm chair near the window.

"She was just joking around, Hermione! You just take it to a whole other level! Constantly getting on your high horse and looking down on people who aren't as clever as you, it annoys me to no end that you just don't know when to shut your mouth!" With a mutter of "God, you do my bloody head in", he relaxed back onto the chair with Lavender cooing over him.

Hermione stood, silently imploring herself to not cry, despite the fact she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. "You're so stupid, Ronald." She hissed, before she grabbed her bag and stormed away from the fireplace, and those occupying its warmth.

Hermione was furious. Normally, when the boys irritated her she'd let it slide, but Lavender had been there to see it this time. Hermione, slightly ashamed that she let herself go like that, was a lot more humiliated than usual. Her mind was churning at such a rate, she could barely comprehend a thought before a new one had taken it's place. She stood back as the door to the common room opened and then climbed through, she needed to walk, to think.

It was a little before curfew and she intended to use that time to burn off steam that the Ron, Harry and Lavender had created within her. Hermione stormed down different corridors in deep introspection. She hardly noticed where she was going until she arrived at an empty muggle studies classroom. She entered. The classroom was cool. Her thoughts still danced within the confines of her head. She began to pace. She rarely did. She preferred to sit down, preferably with a hot drink and think over things or to do homework. But right now she needed to work out the irritation.

She knew she didn't deserve that kind of treatment from Ron, yet it had happened. Harry, she knew, must be irritated by her demands to see the book, but did that really excuse him from not defending her? If Harry had jumped in there was no question that Ron would have backed down. She felt that in a way, this had been the storm, after a long period of calm. She had known that Ron would eventually bite at her, his growing frustration with her had been apparent in the last few weeks, although, that didn't help her feel any less stung by his harsh words.

That book had caused a lot of problems. she knew that Harry wouldn't trust it without reason - it clearly wasn't on the same level of dangerous as Riddle's diary had been, but it wasn't safe either. Harry had not looked into who this "Half-Blood Prince" was, and she hadn't been able to find anything, but perhaps there was another way to find out. She'd already scoured the library for any hint of his identity but she hadn't set foot into the restricted section. Who knew what information lay there?

She knew she wanted to do more research, she wanted to find out who this person was, if they were dangerous. Harry was in the common room right now, mesmerised by the spells described within the books pages. There was no telling when he may try them out or what they might do. She had been feeling so helpless recently, so left out, this was how she was going to change things – she was going to prove they needed her, still. She was going to prove she was of more worth than Lavender Brown and she was, most importantly going to ensure Harry didn't get himself hurt, or anyone else hurt, for that matter. She was going to find out who this Prince was – tonight.

Hermione sat on a desk, still deep in thought about her current issues with Ron and Harry. A noise behind her made her jump. Her heart thudded painfully. She stood quickly and turned towards the source of the noise. It was a large, muggle grandfather clock, not unlike the one her parents kept in their dining room.

"Of all the quiet classrooms, I pick the one with a grandfather clock." She muttered, out loud to herself. Then it hit her. She was in a classroom, at least five minutes walk from the common rooms entrance. The clock had chimed on the hour and she had prefect duty approximately a half hour ago.

She worried, first, about being late for prefect duty. Rushing towards the door, taking a fleeting glance at the clock and checking she was correct in her assumptions that she was, indeed, late for prefect duty. She then worried about prefect duty itself – dealing with Ron's sarcastic comments about her tardiness, and then about whatever else he liked, be it how she had verbally assaulted Lavender or how she was so irritating in regards to the book.

She wished, desperately, that she had the invisibility cloak the trio had favoured previously for their adventures and journeys. If she had the cloak, she could sneak through the breezy corridors easily, make it back to the common room, and if Ron had already left, she would be able to patrol by herself, without his biting comments. Although, she knew, it wasn't very 'Gryffindor' to be a coward and hide from someone because you were stung by their words. She knew it was better to just go and face him and try and resolve their current fight, he was far to stubborn and would never make the first move to fix this. He might be in a sulk though. If she were lucky.

Hermione sighed and began to make her way back towards the common room. Much to her disappointment, Ron was still seated by the fire, now alone. At the sound of the portrait swinging open he jumped up. Hermione paused, glancing nervously around the empty room. There was a moment of silence. He shook his head, glaring at her. "What took you so long? You've made us late."

"You could have left without me, Ron. You could have been patrolling already." Ron shrugged awkwardly in response.

"I suppose we should go then", He pushed passed Hermione quickly and out the door.

For a while the two walked on in silence. Tonight it seemed nobody wanted to venture out after curfew, save for the other prefects who were patrolling the corridors. Ron made no attempt at conversation, choosing instead to sulk and send pointed looks towards Hermione. Hermione, in turn, did not offer any sign of relenting in their uncomfortable silence, despite the fact she was growing increasingly irritated by Ron's attitude.

"Hermione," Hermione turned to face Ron when she heard him speak. "I'm heading back." He announced cooly.

However as the night went on she found herself getting more and more wound up, "if Ron doesn't stop with this ridiculous pouting, I'm going to actually kill him," she seethed to herself, silently imploring Ron to grow up. She turned away from him, as though to look out the windows of the corridor, using this as a chance to grit her teeth and try and grind out some of her anger without him noticing.

"Why? Duty isn't over yet, we've only patrolled for an hour."

"Well, I'm tired" he said defensively as he began walking away.

"Ronald Weasley! We have to finish our patrol of this corridor before we go back! Its your duty as a prefect! Just because you're sulking, doesn't mean you can neglect your duties!" Hermione exclaimed, furious.

Ron spun on his heels, angrily turning to face Hermione once again, " I'm neglecting my duties? You bloody hypocrite. If YOU hadn't been late, we would have finished by now!"

"Well excuse me if I don't enjoy watching you eat Lavender's face for an hour!"

"You don't have to watch us, Hermione. You're still the one who was late. I waited for half an hour before you even showed up!"

"Oh, Ronald, don't pretend like you're perfect. You're always late - this is the first time I've ever been for anything and it was all your fault in the first place!"

"Give it a rest, Hermione. You're acting like a lunatic!"

"Oh, forget it," Hermione screeched, "I'm going back too!" She stalked past Ron and back the way they had originally come.

Ron stood and watched her leave, wound up and agitated by their dispute. He felt, he couldn't deny, disappointed they were fighting. He missed their innocent banter and bickering. He hated this genuine dislike she seemed to have for him and he didn't enjoy finding her infuriating. He decided to walk the longer way back to the common room to give Hermione a chance to gather her things and get into the girls dormitory. It would mean there was a less chance of running into each other again tonight and potentially having another argument. A part of him though, wanted to fight, to tear her down off her high horse.

It took Hermione significantly less time to get back to the common room than it normally did. This, she deduced, was due to the fact she was moving at an alarming rate, trying desperately to avoid Ron catching up to her. She didn't feel like talking to him for a very long time. Once she was inside the warm common room, she realised she was far too restless to sleep. Ron had worked her up and now there was absolutely no chance she could settle down. She needed to read, but even reading seemed like too much effort right now.

"A walk would be nice," she thought, "preferably without Ron this time." She made her way upstairs into her shared room in the girls dorms. She peered around in the darkness. All the girls were asleep. If they hadn't been they probably would have greeted her quietly when she walked in, excluding Lavender of course. She sighed and laid down on her bed not even crawling under the covers. She would wait until Ron went to bed before going down and then she'd go for a walk.

She already knew her destination - the restricted section. She just didn't know how she'd get there yet without being caught by patrolling teachers or Filch and Mrs Norris. The answer came to her quickly in those minutes in the dark. The invisibility cloak. If Hermione could get her hands on that she'd be able to search the library with complete freedom. Nobody would be there at this time of night. There was no spell placed on the stairs to the boys' dorms as there were to the girls'. It would be risky, but if she could just sneak into the correct room and find Harry's chest she would be fine.

Hermione walked down into the common room and across to the other stairway. She looked up nervously, searching for any sign that someone might be awake, and then began to ascend the stairs. The doors she assumed, would be unmarked just as they were in the girls' dorms. She pulled out her wand and placed it in the palm of her hand.

"Point me" she whispered. Immediately it began to work like a compass. She continued walking higher and higher up the stairs until eventually finding a door in which Ron, Harry and other Gryffindor students must be sleeping.

Unsure of whether or not the door was locked she whispered "Alohamora". It glided open an inch. This rallied Hermione's morale. She recast the four-point spell and entered the room. The darkness was punctuated by different snores, one particularly loud was off to the right of the room. "Probably Ron," She thought, rolling her eyes. It was hard to see the wand in the dark and fearing a Lumos spell might wake somebody up, she resorted to keeping her other hand over the wand and trying to follow the general direction.

She moved slowly. Her moves calculated. She felt her surroundings with her feet before moving. Once she got a little braver, she began to move quicker in the direction the wand was pointing her. Barely a second later, she collided with something hard.

"Blast!" She hissed, then fell silent. She held her breath and prayed the noise had not cause any of the boys to stir, she waited a second until she was assured she could still hear all the boys snoring away. She then knelt down, feeling the hard box she had collided with, Harry's chest was not locked, and was quite easy to access, Hermione found happily. She opened it wide - luck was on her side tonight.

The chest did not creak although she had to root through a bit until she felt the silky material of the invisibility cloak. She grabbed it, placed everything back inside and closed the chest. Then she started her trip back, feeling her way slowly out of the room. She was sure she would have a heart attack if something creaked or any noise other than the snores was to be heard. It wasn't until she had firmly closed the door on the dormitory, that she really let out a long sigh and began to breath easy.

Hermione arranged the cloak so that it covered her entire body. She almost laughed, it was unbelievable that this cloak once hid her, Harry and Ron and now it wouldn't cover two of them. Especially not now the boys had gotten taller and filled out.

She set off hoping no one would be around. Despite the safety the invisibility cloak brought her, she still felt exposed and worried needlessly that she was going to get detention. Or worse should Snape be the one to find her. Hogwarts was always so much colder at nights and Hermione folder her arms across her chest trying to retain some warmth. Her wand pressed tightly to her breast, she could see her breath before her. She sped up, wanting to arrive at the library as soon as possible. She did not require a spell to light her way; the moon did that for her. The corridors softly lit silver from the huge windows that decorated the castle.

She felt goosebumps rise on her arms. She was being watched. She knew that feeling, it was the exact same feeling she had had every single time Ron, Harry and herself had been in serious trouble. Her stomach clenched and she unfolded her arms and raised her wand. Who on earth would be watching her? Who could see through the cloak? Her uneasiness grew as she took another step, consequently, tripping over Mrs. Norris, who let out a loud hiss and arched her back. Hermione grabbed at the cloak, gripping it closer to her as she fell to the floor with a significant thump.

The cat hissed again and Hermione held her breath. Harry had mentioned, various times, how he felt Mrs Norris could see straight through the cloak. She hoped he was wrong about that fact. Mrs. Norris lowered her back after a moment, but still stared at where an invisible Hermione lay motionless. Hermione waited a few more minutes, before deciding she should be the first to move. She got up and stepped back softly, before carrying on the way she came, glancing over her shoulder to see Mrs. Norris still standing as still as death and staring after her. Hermione's heart took a while to start beating evenly again. She was certain Filch would come running down the corridor, rip the cloak off her and drag her straight to Dumbledore. Eventually, she reached the library's door. She rolled her eyes in relief, never before had a journey to the library taken her that long.

Just entering the library made her feel more relaxed. This place had been her sanctuary for the last six years, a place away from the rest of Hogwarts. She remained on guard, despite feeling at ease, due to the possibility of someone lurking around. Making her way to the restricted section, she cast 'lumos' and began reading the spines of books and taking down likely candidates for information. She began scanning the first few books but half way through the second she put it down. The library was still completely silent. By now it would be apparent if anyone were here. She took off the cloak and folded it onto a chair, seating herself on it afterwards.

She finished the second book, and the third, and the fourth. But found nothing on the Prince. After what must have been at least two hours of peering at books she rubbed her tired eyes and resolved to take a break. She let the spell fade and leaned against a shelf, closing her eyes. "Just a few minutes" she whispered to herself. There was a sudden sound. The sound of a scuffed shoe. Hermione's eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright.

There was a moment of silence in which time seemed frozen and then a hushed voice: "Who's there?"

Hermione held her breath not daring to reply. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place the owner. The whisper had kept too much hidden. She shut her eyes briefly, praying they were a student, that they were just as frightened as her at the idea of being caught and would slip away. She opened them again and cursed in her head, realising she had seated herself in a place of dim moonlight, too dim to read without Lumos, but light enough that another person could identify her.

A deep chuckle punctuated the air, now thick with tension. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Mudblood Granger?" Draco's voice sneered from somewhere in the shadows.

"Malfoy," she hissed, standing abruptly. "Why are you in the library, at this time?"

"I should say the same, wouldn't want to get caught, would we now, Mudblood?" He laughed, his voice thick with an almost childish delight, "and think how disappointed Gryffindor would be if you lost them all those hard earned house points. You, good as gold, Granger."

"I am a prefect. I have the right to be here. But you," Hermione spat, "are nothing but the arrogant, spoiled son of a Death Eater lurking around the library at night. Shouldn't you be back in the dungeon, where you belong?". She caught herself, realising Draco was, in fact, a prefect. She recalled his abuse of power last year when Umbridge had been in charge and couldn't believe she'd ever forgotten. She must have been more tired than she thought.

The realisation on her face did not escape Draco, where ever he was in the shadows as he chimed up: "Oh yes, that's right Granger. I'm a prefect too remember? I can hardly believe you forgot."

He finally stepped out from behind a shadow cast by a bookcase directly ahead of her. He touched the badge pinned to his lapel. Hermione cursed again wondering how she could have said something so stupid. "I've got just as much of a right, if not more of a right to be here than you. Of course it's way past your bed time. I can see," he added looking at the cloak "That you don't have permission to be here, unlike myself"

Malfoy had glared at the mention of his father but seemed to collect himself and continued. "You better tread carefully Mudblood. Filth like you don't even deserve to mention my father, especially not by name." He smirked suddenly, "But I won't have to worry about that for much longer, I'm sure."

He leaned back against the bookcase, examining his fingernails. "You're right," Hermione responded, "I won't have to worry since we're going to lock daddy dearest and all his little chums up in Azkaban pretty soon."

There was silence again. The moon had moved behind clouds, casting them both in shadow once more. Draco exhaled deeply. Hermione realised all too clearly that she was alone with him in the library, that he must have his wand on him and nobody would be around should anything happen. Footsteps echoed through the library. Hopefully he was walking away from her. Far away. But somehow she felt her luck today had run out.

"Do you really think that's going to happen, Mudblood?" he crooned gently into her ear. She gasped and backed up into a shelf, banging the chair with her hip and sending it, along with the cloak, to the floor. Draco advanced, trapping her against the shelf. "Do you really think Noble Potter can defeat the Dark Lord? He was lucky the first time but his time is running out and then he, along with scum like you, will finally be wiped from this world".

He kept his voice even and reach up to caress her with his right hand. She flinched from the touch. She was brave, no doubt – she was sorted into Gryffindor based on this. But at that moment, she was filled with fear. Draco Malfoy was dangerous, he was cruel and she wasn't sure if she would leave this library unscathed.

"Get away from me, Malfoy." Hermione said, her voice betraying her fear. The moon appeared again. She could see one side of his mouth curve up into a lopsided, but altogether malicious grin.

"Scared, mudblood? You should be flattered that nobility such as myself can stand being in your presence for this long."

"I wouldn't want you near me if you were the last human on earth, you insolent pig." Hermione seethed.

His jaw tightened in suppressed rage. He gave her an uncomfortable and piercing stare before roughly grabbing her chin.

He paused for a second, before he kissed her jaw, sucking a little on the soft skin he found there. Her mouth opened in surprised and before she could protest, he pressed his lips to hers.

Softly, he muttered into her mouth, "We'll see about that, Granger." He pulled back and grinned savagely. She squeaked as he lent back in. Her hands balled up into fists and began pounding on his chest in a pitiful attempt to fight back. He pushed her harder against the shelf. She had no chance to form words before he bit down onto the plump flesh of her bottom lip. Drawing a cry that he muffled with his mouth. "Remember who you are talking to, you filthy parasite." He hissed into her ear, as he released her.

She saw a smirk form on his face. He moved his body an inch, it was enough space for her to fit through. She barged past quickly, grabbed the cloak off the floor and ran. She didn't see the smirk fall of his face, as he realised just who he had kissed.

As he watched her bushy hair disappear round the corner, the complete disgust at his actions set in. He'd wanted a reaction out of her, to dominate her and show her what pitiful scum she really was. He hadn't meant to do something so repulsive. And yet somehow, he had.


	2. Chapter 2

Throwing it out there how sorry I am that i've been such a rubbish author recently. I've moved hours away from home, and been trying to rebuild my entire life so i've been pretty damn busy. Sorry! Enjoy guys :)

**Chapter Two**

Harry had rarely seen Hermione since Ron and Lavender's impromptu get together. The tension had been unbearable in the common room, since the argument - and Hermione now flat out refused to be around Ron whatsoever. This led Harry to only really seeing Hermione in lessons or when he joined her in the library, as he had done a few evenings before Slughorn's scheduled Christmas party. He'd decided it was time to approach the topic of Ron and the party itself.

"You know, he had absolutely no right to talk to me like that," Hermione began haughtily, Harry had heard this rant already. Twice. He felt it best to just allow her to go over it again, rather than try and stop her. "Anyway, I asked Cormac, seeing as you need to bring someone."

Harry took a second to ensure he had heard her properly. This hadn't been in the rant previously. "Oh? Well, I thought we could go together... as friends." Harry said. Hermione groaned.

"Why didn't I think of that? Anyway you should be careful," she said.

"You're not going on about the Prince again are you?" Harry sighed, completely bored with the subject.

"No! I don't care about your stupid Prince," she sneered "I overheard some of the girls talking, their thinking of slipping you a love potion and I really think Romilda Vane will," Harry smirked, "she only likes you because you're the chosen one!"

Harry had been listening, until his gaze slipped to her mouth, and he noticed a faded red mark standing out from the pale lips. He had asked her when he first noticed the mark, red raw and painful looking, a few weeks ago. She had mumbled something and then run off to breakfast.

"Hermione," Harry started, "Whatever did happen to your lip?" Hermione paused from placing a book back on it's shelf.

"Excuse me?"

"A few weeks ago, you had a cut on your lip, remember?" Harry watched as she suddenly became extremely fascinated with the book, despite the fact that she'd finished reading it cover to cover only a little while ago.

"I don't remember," she said, finally putting it back on the shelf, "Keep an eye on your food anyway and don't eat any gifts."

They spoke for a little while longer. They discussed whom Harry could take to Slughorns party now Hermione was taking Cormac. Despite the fact Hermione had been, admittedly, his second choice - he would have preferred to be taking a particular red head who had caught his attention.

Alas, both plans had fallen through and thus they both agreed he should invite another friend and their decision landed on Luna Lovegood, another fifth year they had become friends with over the last year. Eventually though, he had to leave. Quidditch practice was scheduled. They had bested Slytherin and were on a roll, determined to win the cup.

Hermione stayed, intending to read a new book she had found, "Magical Properties of the Ugandan Flower Monkey," that she currently had open in front of her. Her eyes brushed over the words before her, detailing where the Ugandan Flower Monkey had been discovered. Something caught her eye, she looked up to see Draco Malfoy stood not a few book shelves away. She wasn't sure if he had spotted her yet or not but his eyes were fixed on the shelf in front of him. She slowly stood up, gathering her books whilst keeping a firm eye on him. She prayed he would not notice her. Although other students were studying, she had no doubt he could corner her quite easily in this spot and whisper more threats. She felt a twinge of fear and longing – she put the latter entirely down to the fact she had been pining over Ron the last few days, missing his presence, and feeling fiercely jealous at his attention towards Lavender.

Draco chose a book, opening it and then sneered, putting it back on the shelf. She wanted to laugh at how rude he was – even to inanimate objects. Oh, how she loathed him. How much she wanted to rush over to him and hit him, hurt him. How she wanted to scare him the same way he had scared her. She wanted his heart to feel as heavy and as restricted as hers had.

Instead she turned and fled.

A week later, Hermione stood in her dorm examining herself in the mirror. Slughorn's party was due to start in a short while and she had light butterflies. She hated trying to dress up. She had stayed safe with a classy pink dress with a v-neck that showed a hint of her amble cleavage. She was complimenting her outfit with a simple necklace her mother had given her a few years ago.

Lavender sat in the corner, watching her comb her hair and apply a light layer of mascara and lip gloss. The girl pouted, irritated she herself would not be attending the party. Hermione ignored her, instead picking a non existent piece of lint off of her dress and going over the events of the last month in her head.

Why on Earth," she thought, wallowing in self pity "Did I think it was a good idea to invite Cormac?" She knew of course, that she'd done it to get to Ron, but she really regretted inviting the creep. She had a sinking feeling she'd be avoiding him all night. God forbid, he made a move on her. "Perhaps wearing a low-cut dress might not be such a good idea," she mulled over, looking down at her chest.

She moved closer to the mirror, pulling her lip out slightly to examine it. The red mark had more or less gone. All month she'd put any thought of Draco firmly in the back of her mind, but they still resurfaced whenever she caught a glance at her face in the mirror. She couldn't understand why he'd acted as he had. Draco had always been cruel, a bully. He enjoyed intimidating people but he always had Crabbe and Goyle flanking him as his muscle power. He'd never pick a fight without them. It was completely unlike him.

She moved closer to the mirror, pulling out her bottom lip slightly to examine it. The red mark had more or less gone. At first, it had been impossible to hide, Draco had bitten hard enough to draw a little blood and the mark had lasted longer than she'd hoped. For the last few weeks, any thoughts she had of Draco Malfoy had been pushed to the back of her mind. They had resurfaced, however, when she looked in a mirror. His actions had baffled her. It took a great deal to confuse Hermione Granger, but he had succeeded.

Draco had always been cruel, a bully. He enjoyed intimidating people, hurting them, controlling them. He thrived off power. But normally, she had seen him act this way when he had a support system, a network of cronies to flank him and give him the confidence to act the way he did. She had never seen him pick a fight without them and it puzzled her.

Why had he picked a fight? Why had he picked that fight? Why had he gotten so worked up about her insults – insults he had heard hundreds of times over the last few years.

But what she really didn't understand, what really confused her was why on earth, had Draco Malfoy chosen to kiss her?

Granted, he hadn't exactly snogged her. He had been cruel, he had hurt her and he had left a mark. Maybe, she considered, that was why he did it? To leave a mark? To remind her of her place?

But why had he smirked afterwards? Because he had realised how scared she was? Or because he thought he had got another kind of reaction – the kind of reaction Krum had given her when they kissed in her forth year.

No. That wasn't it. But surely, he didn't just kiss her because she was insulting him? She cursed herself, for the hundredth time that month for removing the cloak whilst in the library.

Then it hit her. Draco Malfoy had been in the library after hours, in the restricted section.

Why was Draco Malfoy in the restricted section, in the early hours of the morning?

What was he hiding? Had that caused the reaction? Is that why he had kissed her? She heard Lavender shuffle on the bed, and give an audible sigh of defeat in regards to the party, before getting up and leaving the room. Slamming the door on her way out. Hermione glanced as she retreated, before sending another look towards the mirror and following in Lavender's path.

A few hours later, Hermione was seeking refuge behind a curtain with Harry. She was already sick of Cormac and his wandering hands. Once more she berated herself for her poor choice. Next time she wouldn't let anger dictate her actions, she'd think things through properly. She gave a quick goodbye to Harry as Cormac approached their hiding place and squeezed her way frantically back into the crowd. This whole thing could have been avoided if Ron hadn't pulled such an immature tantrum after the Quidditch match. They'd both believed Harry had poured the Felix Felicis in his drink. How could she have known otherwise? She snatched something edible off the silver platter Neville was holding - she didn't care what it was so long as it kept Cormac at bay. She stuffed it into her mouth and slid away quickly, ignoring a weak greeting from Neville

Hermione ducked between bodies, making sure to keep Cormac in her line of sight. When she was sure he was suitably distracted, she joined the conversation of a group she vaguely knew. She spotted Harry nearby. He'd been dragged into a discussion with Professor Slughorn and Professor Trelawney. Slughorn was red faced and thoroughly drunk on mead. She cringed as he literally scooped a passing Snape out of the crowd. Snape, unable to escape, reluctantly joined in the conversation, all the while glaring down his hooked nose at Harry. She smiled as Luna made a comment which must have been incredibly hilarious, as Harry inhaled and choked on his mead. He raised his head grinning, looking even more pleased as he spotted something to his liking. Hermione followed his gaze and found Filch barging through students, dragging a furious looking Draco behind him by the ear.

Hermione watched as Malfoy struggled and the scene unfolded. Filch made an accusation she didn't hear, but she heard Malfoy admitting he'd been gate crashing. She wanted to scoff, Malfoy wouldn't gate crash, he would weasel out an invite. What on earth was he doing? Slughorn attempted to defuse the situation - announcing Draco would be allowed to stay. Hermione thought Draco looked paler than usual, tired. Maybe he had been that way for a while, maybe she just hadn't noticed in the library. Of course, it had been dark that night and the bookcases had shielded them from moonlight. She watched as Snape explained he wanted a word with Malfoy as the head of his house, grabbed hold of him and dragged him from the room. She looked for Harry, ready to gesture to him that they ought to follow. She couldn't see him. She knew, instantly, Harry had gone without her. She cursed him silently and decided she too, would follow.

Hermione watched Snape leave the room, ducking behind a pillar. She hadn't heard their exchange, but she knew Harry must be around here somewhere, possibly in the room as well. She was confident he would tell her but she was aching to know now. However she couldn't very well ask Harry what had been said, for he would know she had followed them. As Draco opened the door and stormed away in the opposite direction, Hermione made a rash decision. She was going to follow him. She wanted to understand him, his actions in the library and his reason for being there in the first place. She just wasn't sure why. She was treading a fine line between curiosity and dangerous involvement with someone who was nothing but malicious with her. The curiosity outweighed the fear and in a way, she felt excitement as she followed him down the hallway. She was doing this alone, she was going to figure him out, without Ron and Harry.

Harry kept tight hold of the invisibility cloak. God forbid that it slipped, Snape realised he had been followed and that Harry had heard as much as he had. He moved slowly, as quietly as possible. He had used this cloak time after time to uncover threats in Hogwarts. On this occasion he knew there was more. This threat was different.

He watched Draco storm away, he was about to turn back around and head back to the party before he was missed when he noticed something out the corner of his eye. A slight movement down the hallway, a shadow that moved from one of the pillars, to another. Someone else was following Draco Malfoy tonight. He watched closely, not daring to move for fear of being heard. He saw brown curls as the person entered the light, the bushy hair was unmistakeable. The shadow moved again and disappeared from his sight.

Harry shook his head, "Why would Hermione be following Malfoy? She wouldn't. She will, however, slay me alive if she realises I've left the party without saving her from Cormac." He chuckled to himself, deciding it was time to head back. He felt much more optimistic about the party when it occurred to him that maybe Ginny would be around to chat to.

Hermione slipped behind another pillar, praying no one would see her; or hear her for that matter. She felt certain they would. Her heart raced and her ears pounded with the sound of her blood and the silence that covered the halls. Even Malfoy's footsteps were muffled by the expensive Italian shoes he wore. She glanced around, checking the hall was empty, before bending down and removing her shoes. It would be easier to remain undetected this way.

He carried on, seemingly unaware that someone was matching his footsteps. Just as she began to wonder about his destination, he stopped, pacing a few times. A door appeared before him. Just another question to add to her list, she huffed, Draco was using the Room of Requirement, and she was drawing blanks as to why. A part of her wanted to immediately follow him inside, but the more intelligent part of her held her back. She observed as Draco glanced suspiciously around. Her heart seemed to stop momentarily as his eyes fell mere inches from where she stood. He shouldn't be able to see her where she stood. He stayed still. She dared not breathe.

She felt as though she was a player in some sick game of cat and mouse. She had started off feeling like the cat, following her prey through the corridors, stalking him down. But now she felt every bit the mouse and she knew that he was aware he had been followed. He took another look around before opening the door, quickly moving inside and gently closing it. The door disappeared in less than a second. Hermione sighed and turned away, back to where she should have stayed, at the party.

The room was warm, she could hear soft snores from the occupied beds as she tiptoed in and slipped off her dress, shoving it carelessly into her chest. Her heels, which had rubbed her feet raw, were hastily kicked under the bed to be dealt with later. Hermione shrugged into a large pyjama top and the oversized matching bottoms.

Her bed seemed like heaven right about now. The day had been long and gruelling. All she wanted was to drift off into a dreamless sleep in which she could forget about everything bothering her at present. Ron, Harry, Lavender, Cormac's incessant talk, Malfoy – especially Malfoy. She needed to forget about the drama and get away from the confusion surrounding her confrontation with him in the library.

She began combing out her hair, tying it up at the nape of her neck to keep it away during the night. The duvet was already heated with a hot water bottle, one she supposed must have been placed there by the house elves. She frowned slightly but was too tired to be truly angry. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed sleep to come to her.

Her eyes snapped open. Hermione could see only darkness. There was complete silence save for her panting for breath. There was no sound of someone shifting in their beds, there was no snoring. A complete wrongness hung in the air and Hermione still struggled to breathe. There was a heavy feeling on her chest. She began to panic. Light. She needed light. Hermione attempted to lift her arm and feel around for her wand but something prevented more than the slightest of movements.

Her arms were completely frozen. She shifted slightly on the bed and opened her mouth to speak, but to no avail. "Come on you idiot," she thought, grinding her teeth in frustration. "It shouldn't be this hard to speak. This must be a spell. Lavender? Surely she wasn't this petty about not being invited to Slughorn's party." She paused for a second in her struggling, thinking of how to get out of her current predicament.

*She paused for a second in her struggling, thinking of how to get out of her current predicament. This had to be some sort of cruel joke. Nobody was out for her blood. Nobody but Gryffindors could be here and none of them would want her dead. Hot breath on her neck stirred her from her thoughts. A voice whispered directly into her ear.

"Mudblood" the voice sounded vaguely amused. She knew it was Malfoy immediately this time. This couldn't be real. Of course, if Harry and Ron could sneak into Slytherin's dungeons then he could hypothetically sneak into Gryffindor's tower, but even so, there was no way he could overcome the charm on the girl's staircase.

Her thoughts ceased as Malfoy pressed down; harder now. Her breath was taken from her as he placed the majority of his weight on her. She wanted to scream, but her vocal cords refused to work. She couldn't breath. Her heart raced and she tried to lift up, to push him off her. He snarled and she tried to move her head so she would no longer be near his hot, irritating breath. She attempted to wiggle again. She heard him chuckle and her heart felt as though it was going to explode, fear pulsated through her. His hands led flat on her, and as she tried to move, he pressed them harder down on her chest, the compression was agonising. She felt as though her ribs were going to crack, as though her body was going to break.

"You won't escape me," Draco muttered almost irritably at her weak efforts, his voice seemed devoid of any humour now. She felt, or maybe imagined, his palms loosen a fraction and she wriggled again, a pathetic attempt to push him completely away from her. He moved one hand to rest next to her head, on her pillow, the other remained, laying flat on her chest. His mouth moved even closer to her ear, so close she could feel the heat from his lips. "I know you followed me, filth." he hissed. She winced. "What I want to know, is why?" He pressed harder, she had an image of her sternum breaking, collapsing under the pressure.

She still could not breathe. He paused and moved away slightly, allowing her to breathe at last. She sucked in the air hungrily. Estimating where he was, she spat in Draco's face. He cried in disgust and she felt a hand press painfully hard down on her mouth, She was sure it would bruise the surrounding skin. He pressed down, crushing her all over again.

"You scum!" He snarled, "you're full of piss and vinegar now, but I'll beat it out of you. Mark my words."

"Hermione," a voice whispered in her other ear, "Hermione." she shook again. She blinked and allowed her eyes to adjust to the room. Lavender looked down at her, Parvarti by her side. "You were being really loud." Parvarti whispered. "We thought we'd best wake you up."

Lavender sniffed pointedly, "yes, we did, since we have to get up in a few hours."

Hermione collapsed back onto her mattress. She had no idea what had just happened. Her dream had been so real, so clear. She could feel him, smell him, almost taste him. She felt a dull ache, she had been so frightened. She allowed her breathing to settle down and then she let her eyes close again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: We're back! We're posting this up with a promise that there will be more. We have so many ideas and we're ridiculously excited to get back involved in this project, which we had admittedly abandoned for a while. Our lives are less chaotic and so you can be rest assured we will deliver the goods. Please leave a review – they really will help push us into updating more frequently. Enjoy :) **

**Caesar**

**Chapter Three**

Harry was curled up in an armchair in the common room, turning over the memory of Tom Riddle and his first meeting with Dumbledore in the orphanage. There'd been a gap since his last lesson with the headmaster and he was eager to delve once more into the Pensieve. Harry almost jumped and was quickly torn from his thoughts when somebody appeared at the bottom of the Boys' stairs. He hadn't heard anybody coming down. Glancing up, he found this quiet individual was Ron. He gave Ron a proper inspection as he slinked over and noticed an ugly scarf tightly wrapped around his neck. While it was the right season for this sort of accessory, the common room was boiling and given Ron's behaviour it was clear he was attempting to hide something. Harry had an inkling of what it was and decided, with a cruel pang of amusement, not to spare him of any misery.

"Nice scarf, Ron," He said jeeringly, a cocky smirk sliding onto his face.

Ron bodily flinch, opened his mouth to spit out a retort, immediately closed it again and looked shiftily around the room with a frown so deep it was almost clownish. The source of his behaviour was made quickly apparent.

"WON-WON!" Came an excited squeal from across the room. Lavender, upon sighting her boyfriend, jumped up, skittered across the room and swooned into his reluctant arms. Ginny rolled her eyes upwards, smiling in mock suffering at Harry. He gulped, felt his stomach twist.  
>'Stop it,' he scolded internally, 'She's your best friend's sister.' His attention was mercifully brought back to Ron as Lavender inspected the new addition to his wardrobe. He leaned back, resting his head in his hand and savouring Ron's discomfort.<br>"

"Wonny, why are you wearing that scarf?" Lavender asked, pressing against him (and removing any idea of personal space, Harry added to himself, something he wouldn't enjoy in a relationship. He would have pitied Ron if he hadn't brought it upon himself.) 

"Yeah, Ron," Harry said, attempting to act genuinely confused, but with some difficulty as his mouth kept twitching up into a smile, "Why ARE you wearing that scarf?" Ron squirmed slightly under their stares, his pink face clashing with his hair. His attempts at keeping Lavender's hands away were proving difficult, as she pushed him into a chair and then pinned him there by throwing herself into his lap. They began scrabbling for the scarf and Harry took this opportunity to glance back at Ginny who was watching with great interest. Their eyes met for a brief electric second before she lowered hers to the book in her hand, smiling at her brother's suffering and protestations. His heart leapt into his throat and he felt a sort of nausea. He cleared it, attempting to remove the lump, and turned quickly back to Ron before he brought any attention to his behaviour. He hoped he wasn't being too obvious.

"Come on, Wonny," Lavender giggled, "take of the silly scarf." He groaned in a resigned manner and let her remove it fully. Ginny wolf-whistled, drawing the attention of the other Gryffindors, who had been previously unaware of the situation – some only briefly glanced, but others who were more interested in the disastrous couple began to watch, or even came over to better inspect. Harry looked down, biting on a knuckle and choking back his laughter to the best of his ability. Ron's face rivalled the red of his tie. On his neck was a substantial, angry looking love bite.

"Shut up," He mumbled, glaring at his sister for making him the centre of attention. Some of the other students yelled out suggestive comments, whistled or wriggled their eyebrows at each other. (A particular cry of: 'Ey! You've been getting up to some cheeky shenanigans,' got everybody laughing.)

He stared at the floor, rubbing the mark as if he expected it to fade as Ginny keeled over. Harry attempted to look sympathetic a few times, but kept bending over into the chair, shaking in silent laughter.

"Oh Won-Won, there's no need to be shy about it," Lavender said, seemingly unfazed by the attention, as she leaned in to kiss him. He sighed through his nose, not quite willing to respond to it with all eyes focused on them.

"Yeah, Won-Won. No need to be shy," Ginny's taunt oozed over, before their lips could meet. Ron yelped, tossing Lavender off his knee.

"I said shut up, you bloody horror!" He started towards Ginny, who quickly dived up the stairs to the Girls' dorms.

"Just imagine what Mum would say if she heard about this," She cackled down. Unable to climb the stairs, he resigned to shaking his fist at the bottom and raising another vicious cry of: 'Shut up!'

Lavender stood behind him, hands on her hips, pouting slightly at her treatment. Harry shook his head at Ron who was stood, panting in rage. He shifted around so he could fish out the Prince's book stuck down the back of his jeans and flicked through, stopping once to examine Levicorpus again.

Finally Ron turned back to them. It seemed Ginny would be waiting out his departure in the confines of the dormitory. He focused a death glare on Harry, daring him to laugh again. Harry, in turn, found himself even more interested in Levicorpus, hoping he was wearing an innocent, unassuming expression. Ron turned eagerly on his heel as he heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, assuming it was Ginny, but instead saw Hermione and quickly averted his eyes away. She started upon seeing him and there was a brief awkward pause, where he tried to ignore her, but made it even more apparent that he was aware of her. She blinked, her eyes locked immediately onto his love bite. Clearly Ginny had informed her of it.

"Well, Ronald, that makes a lovely addition. Matches the hair perfectly," Hermione's tone was cool. She barely glanced at him as she passed and headed towards Harry. Lavender made a scoffing noise as Ron spun around to make a rash retort, however Harry, who'd stood quickly as Hermione has spoken, shot him a warning look over her shoulder. Ron cleared his throat and tried a more civil approach.

"Hello Hermione," he said, trying for a friendlier tone and sounding almost like a twelve year old boy.

'Which suits his mental age,' Hermione thought bitterly, while raising her eyebrows at him in mock surprise.

There was an awkward silence in which Harry and Ron floundered, swapped desperate glances and found themselves at a loss. Lavender was still pouting and trying to silently attract Ron's attention. The silence was interrupted by Ginny's footsteps thundering back down.  
>"Has anybody seen Dean?" A quick glance around the room reassured her that Dean hadn't come in while she'd been upstairs, but her question was met by silence and a shrug off Harry. Her eyes darted between Hermione and Ron, imagining the exchange she'd missed.<p>

"I'm gonna head down to the library and see if he's there. See you, Hermione," She said, surprising her with a quick hug before making her way towards the portrait door.

"Ginny!" Harry called suddenly after her, "We're supposed to be having Quidditch practice in a bit, so make sure he heads down to the pitch." She nodded and stepped out. Ron, his anger towards her quelled, didn't try to stop her.

"Actually I'd liked to go down early and set up," Harry continued, sensing an opportunity to end the conversation, or more the lack of, "Care to join me?" This was directed at Ron, who grunted his agreement. Lavender grinned.

"Can I come and watch, Won-Won?"

He grunted again as the three of them began to head for the exit. Harry paused.

"Would you like to join us, Hermione?" He knew the answer would be a no, but he extended the offer anyway, because he didn't want his other best friend to feel left out.  
>"I'll be fine. Have fun." She answered in a cheery voice, hugging Harry quickly. She turned to Ron, who looked at his feet before mumbling a goodbye. She returned her goodbye coolly and watched them leave.<p>

Hermione sighed as the portrait closed, letting the tension flow out of her. She sank into Harry's recently abandoned armchair. He felt like one of her only friends at points. She knew she wasn't the most popular girl. She signed again, rubbing her temples as she felt the beginnings of a headache. A bath. She needed a bath - full to the brim with scented bubbles, preferably not lavender. There'd been enough Lavender for one day. The less frequented prefect's bathroom was the best option. She could enjoy a long soak in peace and quiet, hopefully relax her body and rid herself of these tedious thoughts. Grabbing her toiletries bag and a towel from the dorm, she set off.

Hermione strolled down the corridors creating a mental schedule to fill up the rest of the day. It was a Sunday, which meant no lessons and she needed to pass it somehow. She gave herself an hour to bathe and then she would tackle another book from the pile by her bed. Her thoughts turned to the prefect's bathroom - how spacious and grand it was. The bathing area would be empty this early and she could have it all to herself. Her pace quickened in anticipation.

A mere three hundred yards from the bathroom, she was alerted to something behind her. A footstep. A quiet rustling of clothes.

"Mudblood," a voice purred. She knew it could only be Draco. Faltering, nearly coming to a stop, but no, she didn't want this, especially right now. She did not want to face him. She wanted to have her bath, go back to Gryffindor Tower and tackle that book on Garden Gnomes. A hand roughly grabbed her shoulder, spun her round and shoved her back, hard, against the stone wall. She squeaked, air rushing out in surprise, and then internally cursed for letting herself appear weak in front of him. A shadow of a smile crossed his face.

"You aren't going anywhere just yet," He said, examining her with a predatory gaze.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, eager to get the confrontation over with. His eyes darted up to meet hers. The stone was cold and uncomfortable. She shifted in his grasp.

"You followed me the other day." He began, sounding for all the world as if he were making a trivial comment. She started, quickly, to protest. He calmly brought his free hand up and pressed it firmly over her mouth. "Shut up," He commanded. She shut up. "Now," He paused, his eyes drifted lazily up to a spot over her head. He seemed to be selecting his words carefully, smiling to himself. He was going to toy with her again. The probability of it being in the same vein as last time was high. When he spoke next his voice had dropped to a whisper. "I don't quite know what you're up to, Granger, But I'm going to find out. I don't like being followed, especially not by the likes of filthy, interfering Mudbloods," He leaned in dangerously close; she could feel his breath on her ear, and her chest began, involuntarily, to rise and fall heavily. A secret part of her whispered that it was not only fear that inspired this reaction, but she pushed it aside for the problem at hand.

So she'd been caught in the act. A biting retort and a fake alibi would shut any Gryffindor up, but this was Draco. She'd only be further digging herself into a hole.

"Get off me, Malfoy." Hermione growled desperately. Draco arched an eyebrow. Slowly, he eased the firm pressure on her shoulder and she took the opportunity to push past, towards the sanctuary of the bathroom. He roughly grabbed her arm and she flinched as she was forced to face him again.

"You will leave when I say you can leave," Malfoy hissed. Hermione tore herself from his grip again.

"Sod off, Malfoy. Go back to the pit you emerged from." Unsure of how else to respond and feeling vulnerable, she grabbed the door knob. As she opened it, she glanced back to Draco, feeling more confident now she was halfway into her temporary haven. He was watching her. His face: a cold, expressionless mask. She slammed the door shut, leaned back on it and let a shudder run through her. Maybe if she took her time, he'd give up harassing her for today, but she got the impression it wouldn't be that easy.

She pressed her back against the door for a moment and counted to ten, slowly visualising Malfoy shut away into a box. It seemed to work; she relaxed. Happier now she was in the silent protection of the bathroom, she went over to the taps, turned them on and choose the scented bubble bath that would accompany her. Setting the towel and her bag nearby, Hermione stripped of all clothing and slowly slid into the warm water. The smell of vanilla and honey invaded her nose as she dipped her head backwards and then submerged herself. The bath soothed her troubled mind. Realistically, she knew Malfoy was not a threat; not inside the castle walls. But something about the way he had looked at her, the way he could seem to slide out of nowhere, like a shadow, made her more uneasy than she wanted to admit. She stayed in the water until pruney hands became apparent, and the temperature began to decline. She reluctantly eased her slim body out from the tub and reached for the towel.

She gasped as she felt a hand grab her own.

"Nice view, Mudblood."

A screamed forced its way up, but he was faster; clamping his hand over her mouth and handing her a towel with the free one. She was forced to choose between fighting him and covering her sopping body. She chose dignity.

"I don't want you to scream, or bite, or do anything that might make me angry. What I do want is to ensure before I leave that you understand something. If I let go, you will not scream. Correct?"

She nodded. Uncomfortable with how close he was to her. The idea that he had been watching her bathe made her want to vomit. He released her and immediately she asked how he had gotten in.

"Pansy told me the password ages ago. We had a few midnight swimming sessions." Draco responded, his voice laced with innuendo and intention. "Now, I want you to truly comprehend that if you _ever _walk away from me again, I will hurt you."

"Did you really come in here just to tell me that?" She raised an eyebrow. For a moment, he looked as though he had no response. As though he didn't really know why he had followed her, other than to irritate her, get a reaction out of her. She was beginning to shiver and it occurred to him that she was naked and wet.

He shook of his train of thought and shrugged, "I just like to show my authority, Mudblood. You'd do well to remember your place."

He walked towards her and she flinched, much to his amusement. With a smirk he lowered his face down to her ear and she wanted nothing more than to push him away. He kissed her cheek, tenderly, before moving up and biting on her ear lobe, hard. "Now get your clothes and get the fuck out of my sight." He commanded, shoving her away.

She didn't need to be told twice; she grabbed the bundle and ran. Thankful for the empty hallways she slid into a classroom to dress. All she could think was that she had no idea what the hell had just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Trust me, I have no words to describe how SORRY I am that we haven't updated sooner. Linzi has been telling me off for weeks, but I was moving (again) and busy. Alas, we sat down and knocked a chapter up for you guys. And the next 6 chapters are all planned, they just need writing. So hopefully we'll get something up a little sooner this time… you guys are so patient and great. As always, PLEASE review as it lets us know what you're all thinking and gives us a push towards writing. Enjoy!**

Hermione stood at the entrance to the castle, watching her friends depart for the Christmas holidays. Waving dutifully, she almost wished she was going with them. But even she wasn't that much of a masochist. The idea of a fortnight worth of "I miss Lavender's" would be more than enough to make her consider murder. Besides, her own parents were travelling and it was the perfect chance for her to relax and spend some time by herself. She really wasn't as sad as she thought she would have been. She wanted time alone after all that had happened recently and her head felt as if it was going to explode. Hermione was well and truly exhausted, for the first time in her life; she wanted two weeks of early morning walks, late suppers and romance novels instead of textbooks. Alas, the strain of the first term had truly changed them all. Her, more so than either Ron or Harry could imagine.

About an hour after they left, Hermione decided to make her way to the great hall and salvage some breakfast. The others had decided to eat on the train rather than fighting for seats in the great hall. The Gryffindor table was empty, she noted. She shrugged; not at all bothered to be spending some time alone without other members of her house. There were a smattering of Hufflepuffs and even a couple of Ravenclaw. A plate of warm buttered toast appeared in front of her (sent from the house elves, she frowned) and next to it, assorted pots of jam. She took four generous, thick slices, deciding to treat herself, and with it, strawberry and plum jam. A movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention; she looked up, expecting another unfamiliar student to walk in, but to her astonishment she found it was Draco sauntering in and seating himself at the Slytherin table.

'He's still here?' She thought, an icy cold gripped the back of her neck and her heart started up a drum solo. She still thought about their last encounter every day. Woke up from nightmares about it, and it took all of her self-control to stop from hyperventilating. 'Calm down,' She commanded firmly, 'Calm down. Calm down.' But she seemed to have lost all power over herself.

Thankfully, the day passed without any incident. She saw no more of Draco Malfoy, or of anybody for that matter. The castle felt delightfully empty. Chapters of magical and muggle literature were devoured, a relaxing bath had and some quality time was spent with her feline companion as she revelled in the serene silence. Crookshanks seemed to enjoy having free reign of the castle. He spent a large portion of the day slinking through shadows, diving at mice and at one point had a spitting war with Mrs. Norris.

The grounds looked dismal as night unfolded. They were plagued by mud and frost. Hermione wondered briefly if it would snow properly this year, after all the weather was temperamental at best. She skipped dinner, deciding she would be distracted from her meal by his presence, and probably put off it in the process.

Instead, at around midnight, Hermione wandered down to a portrait she knew would grant her entry to the kitchens. After the doorway allowed passage and she stepped through, Hermione was greeted by several house elves, absolutely ecstatic to receive her company. She could see clearly where the elves had been playing board games, and settling in for the night. Some had their feet tucked under the cooling ovens.

"I'm so sorry to intrude! I was getting peckish and thought I'd come and see what food I could pinch for supper. I skipped dinner." She added sheepishly. The house elves protested excitedly - insisting she wasn't intruding at all. They immediately began asking her about what she wanted. Their eager need to serve caused a pang in her heart. One was almost on the verge of bending over backwards to accommodate her every whim, though she assured him it wasn't necessary.

Hermione glanced at the clock, ten to twelve. She supposed she could stay and chat to the house elves whilst she devoured the delicious buffet of pork pies, cheese and biscuits they provided her with. She had attempted to get them to settle, and insisted she could fetch her own meal, but the elves had been persistent – and significantly swifter than her. Before she could reach the pantry, she had a meal pressed into her hands, and a bottle of butterbeer to accompany it.

She settled into the chair next to the long wooden table, host to many other house elves enjoying what appeared to be their own evening meal. The affair was entirely light hearted, Hermione enjoyed watching the house elves talk and fuss over one another – almost as much as they fussed over her, and other wizards and witches. She was tucking into her forth mouthful when the house elves stood to attention; she heard a small cough behind her and turned, slowly, to face Draco Malfoy, yet again.

The blonde strutted into the kitchen, planted himself across from her and with a smirk, raised his left foot onto the table, his right crossed above it. Making himself at home, he quickly changed his smirk to a look of standard Malfoy disgust.

The elves began to fuss, unaware of her discomfort. He seemed to be ignoring her, for now. They served him butterbeer and rekindled the fire on his command. He rocked back and forth in the chair sipping it while they offered him the platter of pork pies. She was surprised he wasn't complaining that the food wasn't good enough. Maybe she'd thought too soon, he'd taken one and lifted it up, rotating and inspecting it in the warm orange light. Hermione prepared herself to retort to whatever sarcastic comment he had in mind for the house elves, but then he shrugged to himself and bit into it. For a while there was an uneasy tense atmosphere at the table. The elves seemed unaware, standing round looking at them with big, eager eyes. Their hands clasped excitedly together in anticipation of doing something for them. Finally, as Draco took another swig from his flagon, he peered over the rim at her with heavy lidded, snakelike eyes.

The flagon was returned lightly to the table, his pinkie finger went down first, to muffle the sound. It appeared he still retained some manners away from his family.

Hermione broke eye contact first and began talking to the nearest house-elf, Twinkle. His favourite board game was a muggle one, Mouse Trap and Hermione promised to come back and play it with him at some point. Draco scoffed, raising his eyebrows to himself as he smirked into his butter beer. "Is there a problem, Draco?" Hermione's voice was full of warning as she glared over at him. He lifted his left hand up to nonchalantly inspect his nails, before retorting.

"I was thinking I may have put my finger on why you repulse me so."

"Enlighten me, Malfoy." She snapped.

"Because," he took his finger and swept up some of the froth left from his butter beer and slowly placed it in his mouth, before speaking, "you are as lowly as a house elf, aren't you, Granger? Playing muggle games with a slave."

"Thank you, as ever, Malfoy, for wasting precious oxygen on your profound thoughts." The pair fell into a tense silence, which Hermione kept up as she finished her meal and drained her glass, which was quickly refilled again. Draco continued to eat his own meal.

"You're disgusting!" Hermione's voice rang out suddenly. The elves perked up briefly in interest, "You don't think about anything but yourself. You're the most arrogant, self-absorbed idiot I've ever met. I don't even think you know what humility is." Draco watched her coolly from across the table, returning her gaze with an empty half-smile. "You can say whatever you want," She continued quickly as he opened his mouth, "But I'm not going to respond again, I can't be bothered with you tonight." Draco laughed once – a humourless bark, and finished his drink, immediately an elf moved in and refilled it.

"Misses Hermione, do you have an opinion?" Hermione's thoughts were interrupted as a house elf engaged her in conversation.

"I'm sorry, what were you discussing?" She replied, the house elf looked solemn and began to explain the house elves current debate.

"…and so, Dobby says socks are the superior form of covering a foot, or an ear, but Bixy disagrees, I think stockings are the betterer solutions." Hermione bit her tongue and looked down, trying to contain fits of laughter at how serious the house elves were taking the debate. She braved a glance at Draco, whose head was also facing down and she could see through his blonde fringe, his lips pursed together, and for a moment she thought he was being cruel, but as his eyes lifted and met her own, she realised he was just as amused as she was. His eyes didn't seem as cold as they had moments before. She sniffed, and he looked at her sharply.

"What is it, Granger?" He enquired.

"It's you! I just don't understand. One minute you are so cruel and horrible and rude! Then I catch you just now, and you don't look… evil. Even if it's for a second. I just, don't understand you and in fact, I don't bloody _want _to understand you."

She stood, thanking the elves for both the meal and their company and left the kitchen. A few yards down the long hallway, she heard footsteps behind her. She stopped, but the footsteps continued until she felt his heat behind her.

She spun around to face him. "Why have you followed me?" She hissed. He infuriated her. His sudden interest in her was both unappealing and unwanted. Yet, as he leaned in, close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek, she didn't stop him. He opened his lips and she felt the moisture on her face.

"You will realise, Granger, that I am not the monster you think I am." His lips pressed against her cheek for a mere second, before he turned and walked away. Leaving her entirely gob smacked, and about as confused as she had ever been in her entire existence.

After she had composed herself, Hermione continued up to the Gryffindor tower, where she found, much to her disgust, a love letter from Mclaggen, whom apparently still presumed he was in with a chance. Throwing it on the embers of the common room fire, she decided there was nothing left of this day other than bed and hopefully, no dreams of Malfoy, or Mclaggen.

The next day, Hermione found herself walking by the lake. It was an area she rarely visited, feeling slightly uncomfortable around it after the Triwizard tournament. Today she didn't mind being so near it because her thoughts were directed towards last night. She was letting her feet take her on a blurry tour around the grounds, while she properly considered the recent events. Briefly she thought she might visit Hagrid along the way, but the idea drifted off again almost as soon as she acknowledged it. He was out in the Forbidden Forest today. She preferred visiting with Harry, anyway.

Spotting a stay pebble on the ground by the edge, she attempted to skim it over the water and frowned when it hopped once and pitifully dropped into the lake. A cold wind stirred up her hair into her eyes and squinting, she pushed it behind her ears, taking a step backwards from the lake. Hermione watched the waves move hypnotically for a while, letting it take her mind away, before surfacing back to the real world and slowly turning to her right. She stopped immediately. In the distance was Draco.

He appeared not to have noticed her yet. As she creeped closer to him, she found him lost in the sleepy way in which the lake ebbed and flowed. Mimicking her earlier actions, unintentionally, he slowly picked up a smooth stone and watched as it leaped six times over the murky water, before it drifted down. He narrowed his eyes, a small, victorious smirk lifting the corners of his mouth into a typical, arrogant expression.

'Even in private, he's insufferably up himself', Hermione thought, rolling her eyes to herself and slowly retreating backwards and around him to a safer distance in some nearby foliage up a small slope. She had her eyes on her feet, navigating upwards, when she heard a loud groan coming from the boy behind. Her heart leaped into her throat as she glanced back, believing she was caught, and that Draco was articulating a noise of irritation at her presence. Hermione watched him, dumbstruck for a moment, as her brain processed that he was still facing the lake. In this position, his back was entirely to her. She didn't know what kind of expression he was wearing, but his shoulders seem to droop in exhaustion, or so it seemed. There was a moment of quiet, as Hermione, frozen into position estimated the distance between herself and the overgrown bush to her right while keeping Draco's back in her peripheral vision. He drew himself suddenly upright, shoulders back and stalked darkly off down the side of the lake, away from Hermione, his cape billowing behind him. It was so over-dramatic, she had to bite her lip to stifle laughter; 'I swear he believes he's some kind of dark, brooding prince. He probably quotes Poe at himself in the mirror, not that he'd even know any muggle writers.'

Shaking her head, she edged slowly back down the slope, keeping her eyes trained on him in case he turned back. Then swiftly, she turned left and jogged away, deciding she'd had enough adventure for the day.

The rest of the holiday past without much event, Hermione received daily letters from friends, her parents and Mclaggen, the latter of which she chose to ignore. Her parents described their holiday in great detail – making her somewhat jealous and regretful that she'd decided not to join them when they asked her to come with them on the last minute trip.

Harry and Ginny had both included in their letters a description of Percy, covered in mashed parsnips storming away and not returning. She had to laugh at this. Although she did feel terrible when they went on to explain that Mrs. Weasley had since been incredibly sensitive. She wanted to comfort Molly, but being at Hogwarts, she was of little use. She decided to pen a letter anyway, in the hopes of soothing some of the tension. There were no letters from Ron and she wasn't sure whether or not she was pleased about this.

She spent a quiet New Years, reading novels, indulging even in romance for once. She was enjoying the silence, but was beginning to feel slightly lonely. Only a few more days, she would reason, and the castle will be full again.

The time alone had given her chance to think; to really assess everything that had happened. She knew she needed to reason with Harry – to try and make him see sense about the Half Blood Prince, and hopefully, about Ginny too. The chemistry between them was getting unbearable.

She had begun to realise how angry she was at Ron. His relationship with Lavender was causing her pain. She had feelings for him, but she wasn't ready to analyse them properly yet. Not with everything else. Recently, she had felt so left out. Like the boys didn't need her anymore. It had left her feeling lonely. But as for Ron, she settled on the fact that if Lavender was Rons "type", she never would be. That stung more than she had hoped.

As for Malfoy… she had no idea what was going on with him. He seemed to be avoiding her, since she hadn't seen him since the day at the lake, and he hadn't even known she was there. She didn't understand the point behind his recent behaviour. What purpose this game served him, or how she was going to deal with it, other than the obvious avoidance of the ferret.

And somehow, she supposed, that might just not happen.

When the others arrived back at Hogwarts, Hermione had been feeding Buckbeak, at Hagrid's request. She had stayed for a cup of tea – politely declining his freshly made tooth-breaking scones. She bumped into a flustered Ron on the stairwell, but pointedly ignored him as she spoke to Harry.

Harry had an appointment with Dumbledore, and Hermione knew he didn't really want to talk about the Half Blood Prince – instead, once Ron had been engulfed into the loving arms of Lavender, the conversation turned to Malfoy.

He explained all about his opinion in regards to Snape, his insistence that Draco must be planning something worried Hermione. She worried Harry was become obsessed, stressing over the Malfoy issue when there were greater issues at hand. Such as Dumbledore's lessons, and the Half Blood Prince and his blasted potions book. She couldn't deny Malfoy was acting weird, although she didn't divulge any of her private meetings with Malfoy to Harry, he didn't need to know and they posed no relevance to whatever he may be up to. And she was pretty confident that Voldemort wouldn't trust a school boy with anything important. She swallowed guilt over her own hypocrisy. She was criticising Harry when she was beginning to obsess over Malfoy, herself.

Eventually, Harry gave up, it was often impossible convincing Hermione if she didn't already believe something for herself. Instead, he filled her in on his row with Rufus Scrimgeour…

"And I told him that I was Dumbledore's man, through and through." They spent the rest of their evening laughing about the Prime Minister, about "Won-Won" and his obvious embarrassment, and discussing Ginny's current relationship with Dean. Hermione dropped a few hints about Harry's feelings, which he side-stepped masterfully and eventually they went to bed in preparation for a busy day.

In the morning, the Sixth Years discovered a sign alerting them that apparition lessons were to begin soon. As Hermione happily began her descent to the Great Hall for breakfast, she bumped into Parvarti.

"Hermione, how was your Christmas?"

"It was nice, relaxing. I stayed here. How was yours?"

"It was fantastic... Spoilt rotten, I am! Did you see the sign? Will you be learning to apparate?"

"Of course! I can't wait, it's so exciting... Did you know apparition…"

Her factual spiel was cut off by a sharp voice behind her; "They let Mudbloods apparate too? They dirty up our oxygen, and now we could end up bumping into one of them if the filthy things get it wrong. I wouldn't want _you _landing on my head, you dirty little bitch."

Hermione didn't have time to even think of a retort before he'd moved past her and into the hall. He never looked back. She'd seen such a tender side to him only a few nights before and yet here he was, being so vindictive. She was clueless as to what was going on with him and oddly, a touch hurt. She swallowed and looked at Parvarti who shrugged, obviously thinking this was perfectly normal Malfoy behaviour, and she supposed, it was. It was just these mixed signals were so distracting. That was all.

Draco didn't know why he was messing with Granger; he knew it was sick, but he enjoyed it. He supposed on some base level he was attracted to her. Not that he cared to admit it and he couldn't let anyone find out, especially not his father. He could imagine the look of disgust he'd receive if Father ever found out about what he'd done and the things he might do. But it was just a game. His feelings for her would never grow beyond that. Besides, he had a task, there was a lot more in store for him, for Granger and for the entire school, than anyone else knew.

He needed to get to work.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Readers,_

_We apologise (again) for the delay. Life gets in the way, and it sucks, but it happens. But we will always return and provide the goods. Thank you for your patience and understanding - your constant reviews are always read and appreciated, by the both of us._

_Important notice: We decided, after much consideration that we will be changing the title of the story once we upload chapter 6. It will be renamed "A Dangerous Game." This title was only ever a quick made up one so that we could post the story, it was never going to be permanent. But there you go._

_Thank you again, enjoy and please leave your thoughts with us :)_

**Chapter 5**

Hermione was freezing. That summed up her day so far perfectly. She had woken up feeling as though her limbs were ice. As she stood in the snowy courtyard, her arms clasped tightly around her chest, she cursed Harry for choosing such a place to meet. He had said he had something important to tell her, then rushed passed her behind Ron in order to get to breakfast, something she had chosen to dismiss this morning.

She heard Harry a moment before she saw him. He shuffled through the snow, slowing making his way to her. She didn't unfold her arms, protecting her chest from the winds. "Hiya." He mumbled, she nodded her greeting and he began to explain about his latest meeting with Dumbledore. Her brows knitted together as he divulged Dumbledores plan for Harry to convince Slughorn to reveal his conversation with Tom Riddle. Her lips became a thin line as he explained about Horcruxes and how he was sure Slughorn had given Riddle information regarding them. She had never heard of Horcruxes, not that she could recall. This made her uncomfortable, surely if Riddle wanted information on them they were not going to be good news. She wondered what she would uncover if she began researching them. She wondered why Riddle wanted to know about them and why Dumbledore wanted to know about Riddle and Slughorns conversation. She wondered most of all why Slughorn didn't want Dumbledore to know. The plot was thickening and it settled in Hermione's stomach like bricks.

"This sounds dangerous Harry, please think of a strategy before you rush in. This is clearly a delicate issue. If Dumbledore couldn't get the information out of Slughorn, you need to think carefully about what you have over Dumbledore." Hermione explained. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw blonde hair and risked a glance. Her eyes met Malfoys, she quickly averted her gaze, not before noting he looked paler than usual against the snow. She blushed, feeling his eyes burn into her back.

She could hear Harry's voice vaguely continuing their conversation, but it had settled into background noise for a few seconds, until she knew Malfoy was safely in the building and away from her.

"Ron reckons I should just hang back after potions this afternoon...", but at this point she didn't particularly care. She wasn't sure if it was because she was embarrassed Malfoy had caught her looking, or because she had blushed like a twelve year old. Or maybe she was genuinely annoyed Harry was taking Ron's advice over hers, whatever the reason, she interrupted him mid sentence with an irritated sigh.

"Do what you want," she said, scornfully. Harry broke off from his tangent and saw her pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, he noticed she looked tired, maybe that was accounting to her mood. Harry looked alarmed at the sudden change of mood and deep down she knew it wasn't his fault Ron was such a fool, but the frustration of him always taking Ron's side was forever going to be a bitter pill to swallow. She turned away and left Harry alone, shivering in the snow, and wondering himself why he had picked the courtyard to meet.

* * *

><p>The three were reunited in potions class, the last table left to be occupied. Hermione pointedly moved her cauldron next to Ernie's to avoid having to speak to Harry and Ron as much as possible. She had begun to feel almost separate from them, as though there was no longer a place for her. The lack of understanding she received from them, as well as the lack of support. The lack of anything, really. It seemed their relationship was based on Hermione giving and them constantly taking.<p>

Worse, she now had to tolerate Lavender and Ron. She didn't want to dwell on it, but she couldn't help it. It hurt. It was no wonder she didn't want to "fix" the broken relationship between her and Ron. The only reason she had probably remained as close as she did was because of her less than platonic feelings towards him; now Lavender was around, there was no need for her to pretend a friendship with him was enough. It never really could be now. She wanted more.

She distantly heard Ron asking Harry if he had also upset Hermione, but before she could eavesdrop on Harry's response, Slughorn silenced the bustling classroom with a question about Golpalott's Third Law. Typically, it was something Hermione had studied in preparation. Her hand shot up, and Slughorn chuckled affectionately before letting her answer. As she recited the potions book at a frightening speed, she heard Malfoy scoff. Never in her life had Malfoy managed to get under her skin by being a prat. She was used to it and learnt to retaliate or rise above it. But today, it almost hurt.

Of all the people in the classroom, Malfoy prided himself on being as intelligent as Hermione. Admittedly, she still beat him in almost every exam and was much more prepared - using books and research to support her brains. She wondered if her intelligence made him feel less of a man, maybe being sly and cunning wasn't enough any more, maybe he wanted to outsmart her in all areas.

She turned to face him. Draco grinned wolfishly as she continued. For the second time that day she quickly averted her gaze and Draco instead found amusement at how distracted Weasley was, knowing full well it would come back to bite him on the arse shortly. He would regret not listening to Granger - even Draco knew to listen to her. Irritating though she was to endure, she knew her stuff, and Draco carefully committed her words to memory, unlike the Weasel who was doodling in his scruffy old notebook. Hermione had similar thoughts about Ron not paying attention and swore that in ten minutes time, when Ron was begging for her help, she would ignore him completely. She felt rather smug as she rounded up her speech and Slughorn agreed with everything she said.

As the lesson progressed and the practical began, Hermione looked over to Harry. His brow was knitted tightly together and he was flicking through the Half Blood Prince's manual for answers. Slughorn wanted an antidote for a poison and he and Ron were clueless as to how to proceed. Hermione was bright red but half way through by the time Ron admitted defeat and started throwing things in for the hell of it. She smirked at Harry, who seemed disappointed in the book's lack of information. By the time Slughorn shouted that there was two minutes remaining, Harry was rustling in the store cupboard and Hermione was frustrated with her half finished potion. Once time was up, Slughorn began to inspect the results. Ron looked suitably embarrassed as Slughorn retched at the contents in his cauldron. The professor looked at Harry's hands, which held a small, wrinkly object and boomed with pleasure.

"You've got a nerve boy! Oh, you're like your mother! Well, I can't fault you... a bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!" Hermione was furious and the only person who seemed angrier than she did was Malfoy, who looked like he had cat sick down his front. It consoled her slightly, although she also noted that he looked considerably paler than usual. Even Ron looked irritated at Harry's success.

* * *

><p>For the next few days, Harry became a pest, constantly questioning Hermione on if Slughorn had asked her to another dinner party. Harry had taken Ron's advice and stayed behind class to talk to Slughorn. She wasn't sympathetic that the result had been disastrous.<p>

"I did tell you to be careful. Instead you listened to Won-Won again, rushed in and ruined your chance." She sighed. She did, however, let him know that her research regarding Horcruxes in the Hogwarts library had been unsuccessful. There'd been a brief mention in one of the books, but that was all.

The following Saturday was their apparation lesson. Hermione wasn't exactly ecstatic having had horrible experiences with brooms.

"It'll be fine. I've side along apparated and it just feels weird. Besides, it's heights that make brooms unappealing to you." Harry soothed as he and Hermione entered the great hall. Ron followed shortly after with Lavender. The two clung to each other and Lavender occasionally turned to shoot him a loving look. Ron smiled back and Hermione, for a moment, was torn between finding the look of affections cute and being utterly respulsed. She knew it was jealousy. Lavender wasn't horrible and Ron wasn't a bad person. But she still wasn't ready to admit it.

As the instructor began to speak, Hermione became increasingly aware of Malfoy muttering behind her. It sounded like an argument and for a few seconds she tried desperately to over hear. She couldn't make out words, but it was clear to her that the tone of voice was angry and it was getting louder.

McGonagall shushed Malfoy, who looked flustered as everyone turned to stare at him. Hermione caught his eye and he scowled as he held her gaze. She returned her attention to the lesson, which passed without much incident.

Harry tried to broach the topic of Malfoy to Hermione. He claimed he'd heard him arguing with Crabbe again and they nearly got into a fight. She was too busy attempting to apparate to listen properly.

"Harry, you're being seriously paranoid about this Malfoy thing." But a part of her wondered if he was.

* * *

><p>Ron's birthday came around. Hermione had bought him several small gifts: a pair of socks, a new edition of Quidditch through the ages and a box of chocolate frogs. But they remained in the trunk at the bottom of her bed. Her stubbornness wouldn't allow her to take them downstairs and hand them over. To hear any remarks Lavender may make, or see a hopeful glint in Ron's eye. While her relationship with Harry had had a brief respite, it was now strained again. He went on repeatedly about Malfoy plotting. She'd insisted if he spent as much time concentrating on his assignments as he did stalking Malfoy, he'd be beating her in grades.<p>

She was wandering down to lunch when Harry ran up to her. His eyes were wide and his face pale.

"Hermione! I've been looking for you everywhere, all day! Ron was poisoned this morning!" He panted, resting his hands on his knees and taking deep breaths.

Hermione froze. She felt sick and cold with fear, a thick band of panic tightened round her chest. "W-what? How? Who?" She stammered out. Harry stood back up. He took a few moments to catch his breath. Then he began explaning how the morning had begun.

"I'd thrown some chocolate cauldrons out of my trunk and he thought they were a present and ate a few. They were spiked with Romilda Vane's love potion."

"That isn't poison, Harry!" Hermione laughed almost hysterically as relief welled up.

Harry couldn't believe she wasn't taking him seriously. He realised he hadn't done a very good job of explaining the full story, so continued. "No Hermione." He shook his head furiously. "I took him to Slughorn and we administered an antidote. Then Slughorn opened some mead to celebrate Ron's birthday..."

"Mead in the morning? That's an issue..."

"Hermione, LISTEN! The mead was poisoned. Ron was so shaken up, he drank his before Slughorn could finish his toast. Then he started choking and collapsed. The mead was poisoned. Slughorn said it was meant to be a present for Dumbledore. But it was unopened. So whoever supplied the mead knew who it was intended for and poisoned it. Malfoy has got to be behind it."

"Harry you have no proof it was Malfoy. Is Ron okay?" She gasped, both exasperated and upset.

"I shoved a bezoar down his throat. You might want to rethink slagging off the Half Blood Prince from now on. He saved Ron's life." Harry found an opportunity to make a dig at Hermione's resistance to the author of his beloved textbook.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up Harry! The Half Blood Prince didn't bloody do anything! You did. Good thinking! Is he in the hospital wing? Why didn't you find me sooner?"

"I tried! Yeah. Half our year has been to see him. He's still out of it. Come on, I'll take you to visit visit." The pair began towards the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>It was late evening by the time Hermione left. Seeing Ron so vulnerable had left her feeling physically sick. She was also reeling from the unanswered questions of who had poisoned him in the first place. Who would want Dumbledore dead so badly that they were willing to risk hurting other people in the process? It was unsettling and she knew that Harry's suspicions about Malfoy were actually realistic. But surely with the death eaters out there, it could be any one of them? There had to be an inside source, someone within the walls of Hogwarts that helped orchestrate all of this. It was frustrating and didn't ease her feelings of fear and confusion at all. The corridor was cold and dark as she began the walk back to the Gryffindor tower.<p>

Hermione felt him before she saw him. Like a ghost, he stepped out from behind a pillar.

"Emerging from the shadows, Malfoy? How droll." She scoffed.

He coughed, almost embarrassed. "You went to see lover boy." He stated, drawing himself up and regaining composure. His voice was thick with anger and something close to hurt, or disgust. She couldn't put her finger on it.

"Of course. He's my friend and he's bedridden. Know anything about that, Malfoy?"

"Absolutely nothing." He smirked, tilting his head innocently to one side. She felt like slapping him. Instead she shook her head in disgust, her suspicions all but confirmed, and turned on her heel to walk away. "I'm serious. It wasn't me." He said, raising his voice in agitation. Hermione paused. She didn't turn immediately, mulling over how honest he was being. She wasn't even sure if she believed him, but something in his voice made her want to stay put.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and his breath on her neck.

"Turn around." He ordered. She did so, slowly. His eyes met hers and before she could protest, he kissed her, softly and slowly. She allowed it. She felt conflicted. This was wrong, but she wanted it too much to care. She liked the way he looked, the way he felt and the way he smelled. For once she wasn't answering to Ron, Harry or her teachers. It was a little bit of freedom that granted his tongue entry and a little more of freedom that allowed him to pull her body closer to him so she could feel every inch of him.

Once the kiss finished, she pulled away slowly. There was no point in running away or ignoring what had happened.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Out of curiosity, we are looking now for a beta - the chapters are becoming harder to produce as one of us is always busier than the other. So we need someone who can check over the chapters for us. If any of you are beta readers and would consider it - or know someone who would fancy it, get in touch! Thanks. <em>


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